


A Mad Mad World

by Anotsukai



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotsukai/pseuds/Anotsukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How much can change in just 15 years? A lot for our beloved mutants....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mad Mad World

A Mad Mad World

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men Evolution characters or any X-man character. So no suing!  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It's hard to imagine how much the world can change in just fifteen years. But a lot can actually happen in that amount of time. And that's how long it took for the world I once knew to change.

Everyone thought it was prevented. That the fight with Apocalypse improved things. We were fools. Like the world's view on mutant's would change just like that. Just because we saved the world. Maybe we were just a bunch of dumb kids. Yes, I think that's exactly what we were. Dumb kids.

Maybe I am still a dumb kid. That would explain why I didn't notice the changes. No, it was because I simply didn't care. I am use to the world hating me. They've hated me from day one anyway. Still, I didn't think they would grow to hate us this much.

And to think I tried so hard. I tried to change how everyone saw me. We all did. Freddie, Lance, Pietro, and even Wanda. I remember when that Fury guy first came to the boardinghouse. When he first suggested we join up with him under the fancy name of the Freedom Force, we laughed. The. When he mentioned Jhonny, AKA Pyro, we told him to take a hike. Lance nearly brought the house down on him and all of us that day. Good ol' Lance.

I can't seem to remember why but after a while we stopped laughing. And to our own surprise, we accepted the offer. I really wish I could remember why. Maybe it was the idea that with some special training I would no longer be a screw up with Toad like powers. I could actually be someone.

And I was for those first couple of years. Heck, we stopped hating Jhonny. Sure he was crazy and he loved using any opportunity to burn things or people. Mostly me. But some how he seemed to fight in with us. Those first several missions, before I lost the fear, they were crazy. But we were able to pull through it. We actually saved lives. We were the good guys.

But as we hopped into our missions, we turned a blind eye on the world around us. Probably because we thought we were safe. The new anti-mutant laws didn't affect us. And so what that the sentinel program was put back in action. They wouldn't target us. We just had to keep completing our objectives and we had nothing to fear.

Wow was I an idiot. I should have known better. We all should have. We weren't invincible. That hit home for us when we lost both Jhonny...and Lance. The others hope that Lance would come out of his coma. But I don't think he will. If I went into a coma, I wouldn't want to wake up to this mad world. And after finding out the girl he loved has been killed, well, I think he chose the coma. At least he's safe. No where safer than with those X-geeks.

Now they saw the signs. And unlike us, they weren't caught unaware. There are times when I wished we had joined them instead. Yes, some of their team mates died. But they died to protect others. And that institute of theirs is now a known mutant haven. Better than the Genosha Magneto put together. But maybe I'm wrong. Can't say since I've never been to Genosha.

And now it seems like I never will. Once the government pirate boss of ours learned of Lance's and Jhonny's conditions, the rest of us were given the boot. How's that for gratitude? He gave us the whole song and dance about how his bosses saw us as too much of a threat and we no longer needed him to be the good guys. What he didn't say was that we never needed him. What was left of the gang separated that day. I haven't seen any of them since. Wonder if they think of me as often as I think of them. I doubt it though. Still it would be nice.

So I went at life on my own. The hatred around me had grown but I didn't realize it. After you have been hated this long, you kinda become numb to it. So you miss the signs. Literally. They were everywhere. Besides the normal graffiti telling us mutants that we should all die, there were posters with the sole purpose of gaining support in their latest anti-mutant project. Still, I ignored all of them.

I thought I was content with my dump of an apartment. Now that I think of it, I became a real life hermit. You wouldn't believe what you can get delivered. And thank the superior beings that made Amazon. They didn't care if you were a mutant. As long as you had money, you were good. So I was.

I don't know why I went out that night. Maybe I just needed to get out for a bit. To think of better days. Or to waste time wishing things were different. Boy are they different.

It started with the siren. Thanks to my withdraw from the world, I failed to learn that this siren was announcing the night curfew for mutants. That you were suppose to be indoors by that time. The penalty for breaking curfew? Well, it use to be a warning then imprisonment. But those practices were done away. Now if you were caught by a sentinel past curfew, it was just as if you signed your free will away. For you see, some slimy weasel in the government, heck, a whole group of em, made mutant enslavement legal. There were restrictions in placed but that didn't do us a lot of good.

So I got caught being out passed curfew. I tried to fight. Tried to escape. But there's only so much one can do against a three story tall robot that's been programmed to capture or kill you. So against five of them, there was nothing I could do. All the training in the world wouldn't have saved me. I remember being terrified of them when I saw my first sentinel as a teenager. They haven't changed either.

So I was taken into a processing center. You never want to end up in one of those. All mutants who go there go through various processes. The first is the collaring and chipping. The collars are used for training and keeping our mutant powers in check. The chip, oh boy did that hurt. Those are actually fused into your spine. They carry your registration information and use it for tracking purposes. Can't ever remove them unless you don't mind living the rest of your life as a vegetable.

The second part is the training. Or breaking. Which ever way you chose to see it. Think of the most painful thing you can experience and times that by six. Maybe by ten would be better. It's a nightmare. One I hope to stop reliving at night. At least I survived it. Most training sessions last a year. I must have been a special case. Mine lasted three years. Didn't help I had a tendency to slime the bosses. And kicking that one guard was a really dumb move on my part. Wonder how long it took those ribs to mend.

The third part or the final stage is the graduation test. You pass, you get put up for auction after receiving your mark. You fail, you go back to stage two. If you fail four times, well, you will never have to worry about the process ever again. In fact, you don't have to worry about anything else ever again.

The night I finally passed was a strange one. For you see, all mutants are suppose to go up for auction. But I didn't. Somehow, someone pulled some strings. So instead of going to the auction, I was on my way to my new home. I don't remember much of the trip. Or the plane ride. Whatever they put in my water, it kept me out of it. I could see and hear things but I couldn't respond. I was like a rag doll. Or a puppet.

When they led me to the front door of where I would most likely stay at for the rest of my life, I thought it looked strangely familiar. It didn't dawn on me until I was taken inside that I have seen a place just like this one. The X-men's institute. It was almost identical.

But instead of an old, bald guy in a wheelchair, there was a small woman with dark brown hair and glasses. She was wearing a white lab jacket and had a no nonsense air about her. She greeted the men who were escorting me and signed their papers. She ordered me to sit and wait as she saw them to the door. Already I didn't like her. But you don't get to chose who you serve once you get turned into a slave.

When she came back, she ordered me to follow her. This time I caught her accent. Scottish? At least it wasn't so thick that I couldn't understand her. I followed her up the grand stair case, again noticing the similarities to that X-man mansion. She opened a bedroom door and stepped aside. This is when I saw her smile for the first time. Not liking her smile, I entered the room.

I barely acknowledged the scent of brimestone when I was suddenly surrounded in blue fur. Someone was holding me tightly. I heard my name being repeated over and over. When the grip loosened and the figure stepped back, I got a good look. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was none other than my old rival, Kurt Wagner. An older Kurt but Kurt all the same.

The Kurt I am now watching as I stand by the window. The one person I thought I would never see again. The one person I wanted to see the most. He stirs slightly in his sleep, his body unconsciously stretching itself out. That tail of his moving like a snake. I watch the light breeze ripple through his dark blue fur. I remember the nights when I would sneak into his room and watch him sleep. Back then he was more modest. Not exposed as he is now.

I still can't believe it. The woman, named Moira MacTaggert, is actually a friend of the Professor's. Some years back, Kurt had been captured during an X-man mission. When they finally located him, he was already in the second stage. So Ms. MacTaggert, thanks to the help of S.H.I.E.L.D of all people, was able to get her license to own mutant slaves and was the one who got Kurt. It pains me to see that metallic collar around his neck. Even with it turned off, it seems to weigh him down now and then. And the scar around his right eye, identical to mine in the shape of an M, the sight of that scar makes me burn with rage.

They have been trying to find other friends who were processed. There weren't many thankfully. It was Kurt who found my name in their listings. And it was him who pleaded with her to get me. All of this information took me some time to process. A couple of weeks.

But Kurt had been patient with me. He gave me my space after we talked that first day. He watches me from a distance. He watched as I took on some cleaning chores, flinching when I broke a plate, waiting for the collar to activate. When I experimented with my legs, seeing if I would be allowed to hop or would I be punished. He was there when I finally accepted that I wasn't a slave here. Just a victim. And those long nights of nightmares. He was there during those too.

He was so happy when I asked him if we could talk. That smile never faltered even when I struggled with my nerve. When I finally was able to ask why he begged for me to be brought here, he didn't hesitate to answer. I was so surprised to learn how much he knew about these past fifteen years. Somehow he knew which missions I were on. He knew about Lance even though he was captured before that particular event. He knew about the disassembling of the Brotherhood. And he knew where I was living. I hate to admit it, but I was glad he knew all that even if it was a bit creepy to hear.

He then blew me away. He told me that he watched me for all this time because after I left to join the Freedom Force, he realized something. But it was too late to say anything. I was gone. And he doubted I would feel the same. He told me he loved me. The blue furry gecko loves me. I can't tell you how much emotion that could come from such a simple phrase. Now I know what they mean when they say love makes you see sparks. That's your emotions hitting you all at once. And when you are not use to your feelings or those particular feelings, well, it could lead to interesting situations.

It was just like the old days. After exchanging insults, they got into one of their wresting fights. I can only imagine what that Scottish lady was thinking. But she never intervened. We slammed each other into the walls, the bed, the dresser...and not in the way you are thinking. We were mad. I was mad. Mad at the world. Mad at Kurt. Mad at myself.

When he finally pinned me down, thanks to that darn tail of his, that's when I heard the door close. Kurt didn't or he pretended he didn't. He kept a firm hold on me. He demanded answers and after struggling against him, I ended up giving in. I answered his questions. I told him that I hated his blue furry butt and everything in this crazy world. And the person I hated the most was myself. I really thought my answers would get him to regret his efforts to save me.

Instead he kissed me. And since I was already feeling like the world was crushing me, that the hate in the world was tearing me to shreds, I kissed him back just as eagerly. If anyone in this mad world could understand me, it is Kurt. He knew that when I said I hate him, I was really saying that I loved him. That I hated the world, I was really saying that it scares the day lights out of me. And that when I said I hated myself, I was telling the truth.

Now I look out at night and picture the ugliness that is out there. The hatred that has changed the world into the nightmare it is now. But when I stop, and really see what's there before me, all I see is a large ocean quietly waving back and forth against a sandy shore. Finally I look back at Kurt. My sleeping demon. My night elf. Proof that despite all the hatred that is brewing out there, it is still possible to find something good in the midst of it. Those shining yellow eyes watch me as I return to our shared bed. Those muscled blue fur arms welcome me back under the covers. A prehensile tail wraps around my waist, promising me that it will never let me go. And finally, those lips speak foreign words that I understand on a different level. A deeper level.

This mad world hates us. But I no longer care. Because here, in this little world that we have created is the only world I now care about. A world that will let Todd Tolansky to finally be happy.


End file.
